Through These Eyes
by argentsarmor
Summary: Suddenly, he could feel his upper body jerk forward a little, bringing his attention back to the battle in front of him. Isaac was getting sliced into little pieces – quite literally. Even Allison and Kira were starting to exhaust. They were losing...badly. OR The fic where Stiles witnesses the fall of a warrior.
Stiles' vision was a blur, the fuzzy shape of his best friend running in front of him turning into nothing but a dark void before regaining a bit of his vision again. At this point he wasn't sure how he was still standing. The only way he knew that he _was_ standing was the persistent and surprisingly strong grip Lydia had on his arm and torso, just trying to steady him with each step. After a few more strides, he knew that there was no possible way that he would be able to go any farther. Somewhere in the back of his head, he heard a whisper of a voice that sounded suspiciously close to his own struggle out _I cant_ before his entire world became dark and any strength left in him completely diminished into dust.

When he opened his eyes again, he at first thought that it was just another nightmare, another trick left from the Nogitsune even though they were separated. He down at his hands, which had all ten fingers before glancing up again, brow furrowed., heart pumping dangerously in his throat.

The last he could remember, he was with Lydia trying his best to race up to the fight before passing out. Which is alarming that he feels fine right now. He even feels... powerful. Pure, dark sensation of power from desperation. As he continues to watch his pack struggle against the oni, it finally clicked and the intimate feeling of dread and panic flowed throughout his body.

His body. His look-a-like body, which was currently being possessed by a fucking fox demon.

It was almost as stiles made the realization that he suddenly felt none of the control he just had. His mind became paralyzed as his body started to move on its own accord, a smile unfamiliar on his face as he watched the oni about to kill Isaac.

He had thought that after a while, watching himself torture and kill his friends would finally get so horrendous, so old and blah that it would make him numb to the reactions, the silent screaming would stop.

It seems like he hasn't hit that point yet.

" _LET ME OUT!"_ the words rang in his mind, deafening and heartwrenching. He waited for the nogitsune to push him back down again, shove him in the blinding white room while still being forced to feel and watch what his body was made to do. It was strange; it was like he was always dimly aware that he was put in a cage – still being able to think but not control his body, but he was always watching and could feel every single thing that the nogitsune made him do. It would more interesting to think about and he's sure he would've spent countless hours researching it, except his body (or a copy of it now…? Who even knows) is being used as a puppet to make sure that everybody he loves suffers the most amount of pain and trauma, and oh yeah, it was _his_ body.

Suddenly, he could feel his upper body jerk forward a little, bringing his attention back to the battle in front of him. The Nogitsune knew exactly what he was doing – playing his game. At least he isn't whispering sweet nothings of death and destruction to him this time.

But soon, he could see why words weren't needed. Isaac was getting sliced into little pieces – quite literally. The flesh starting to hang off his body would've made Stiles throw up, if he had control of his –this?- body.

 _Wait… if I'm up here, where am I?_

Alarmed, Stiles did his best to take in the sights around him considering he couldn't even move his _eyeballs_. There were about four oni, Allison and Kira fighting off one each, and Isaac currently being flanked by two, struggling with his battle. Even the girls who were fighters in their blood were starting to show signs of exhaustion, while the oni stayed relentless as ever.

Pushing his thoughts back, he focused all his attention on the scene that lay ahead of him. He was especially trying to ignore the feeling of the smug ass smirk etched on his face. The bastard. Probably wasn't even smirking with the good side of his face.

Turning back to the battle, realization soon came hitting him like a freight train: Isaac was struggling. Badly. His wolf was in charge now, pure animal instinct and reflexes dodging the brutal strikes that would bring the end, but he wouldn't last much longer with the injuries he already sustains. The overwhelming urge to sprint anywhere from here, to not watch the impending doom, hell even put himself in front of Isaac was overpowering. He stared horrified as an oni goes to deliver the last strike…

...but it never comes.

Instead, blinding rays of a golden yellow light comes from the oni. The entire battle paused as the Earth shakes and nature itself erupts until the demonic solider fades back into nothing but an eternal inky darkness. A few feet behind where it used to stand is no other but Allison. A smile is slowly growing across her face as she lowers her bow down.

Allison had just killed an oni. She _killed_ it.

Stiles felt the smile drop across his face as he replays the scene over in his head, the feelings of disbelief and extreme joy triumphing all else. It doesn't matter if he's dead and in some weird limbo. They could win. The pack could win. Allison had saved all of them-

The sickening sound of a blade passing through flesh brought him to be fully aware what was happening in the present. One of the oni had just…and…

The sickling sound of blood and flesh ripping was from a katana passing through _**Allison.**_

 _ **No.**_

His thoughts struggled to process what was happening. This can't be happening. _This is a trick,_ he thought, his brain going over a mile per second _. This all just another stupid trick because of he stupid fox in my head and soon I'll snap back into trying to find Lydia._

Except in some way, he knew he wasn't. After three weeks of trying to tell what was and was not real (even though it felt more than a year) this,…this was real.

For once, he knew that this was but all too real.

Even as the blade was pulled out, he knew the damage had been done. Blood was continuingly dying her purple dress red, the ground and area surrounding her painted with it. She was frozen on her feet clutching the wound trying to stop her slow descend to the ground. Even though Stiles had no control of his body, his chest was starting to rapidly rise and fall, while trying to push away the thoughts _this is the last time you will ever see Allison stand again._

When he will look back on this later, horrified won't even…won't ever be a close enough word to explain how he was feeling. There may never be one.

He couldn't think. He couldn't breath, even though his heart was pounding louder than a drum in his chest. Where's…

 _Scott._

He appeared at the gate, trying to slow his momentum from running all the way back. His eyes immediately widen at the scene in front of him, jaw hung open as the world and time itself had stopped.

Allison is the warrior.

Allison was the one who came from a family of werewolf hunters and yet still fights for the beasts that for centuries her family had killed.

Allison is incredibly smart and independent, yet always was there and willing to put herself on the line in a heartbeat to protect the ones she loved.

And she loved. She loved his best friend so much that it would seem that fate itself would knit them back together one day.

Allison was _Allison._

She _can't_ die.

Stiles felt jolted by electricity when he felt himself moving. The nogitsune, it seemed, had enough.

Stiles was starting to lose all feeling in the movements. His mind wasn't working, unable to process what had all just happened. As he fell further into darkness, he couldn't seem to burn out the look on Scott's face as he had caught Allison falling, and he could've swore he had heard Lydia's screams echo through Oak Creek as he was engulfed into the vast void.

When Stiles awoke again, it was with a jolt. His eyes casted about all around him, but all he could make out is a bunch of curled red hair and a tan leather jacket.

This time he didn't even need to check how many fingers he had to know that this was real.

He took a deep breath, trying to get his thoughts back in working order. Okay. Last time he was conscious, the last thing he saw…

Scott. Scott catching and holding a dying Allison in his arms.

Stiles swallows down a lump in his throat. No. Not only until he knows for sure.

He only just registers that Lydia was sobbing into his chest.

She had known all day what would happen, and had done all she could to try and prevent it.

He lifts a hand cautiously and softly onto Lydia's back. As soon as they make contact Lydia weakly pulls herself up to look at Stiles. Her mascara is now nonexistent, her eyes are dark red and puffy, and she has violent tremors constantly coursing through her body.

Even though deep inside he already knows the answer, Stiles has to be sure that… if she's really….

"Lydia…what…what's happened?" he asks weakly.

Lydia's lip quiver dangerously and fresh tears roll down her cheeks before croaking out the only coherent thing she could in her hoarse voice.

"Allison" she whispers. And that's all that it takes.

And with that, Stiles finally releases his own sobs into the choir of the mourning into the night.


End file.
